


Around the World in 17 Days

by HolikaSmolika



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst too, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I guess you could say your a..., International Playboy, Seventeen - Freeform, did i just banish myself from the fandom?, idk - Freeform, or a, seventeen au, worldwide handsome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolikaSmolika/pseuds/HolikaSmolika
Summary: Suffering from a condition that causes you to randomly end up in almost any place in the world, your life was a little chaotic, to say the least. When a solution seems to arise, you are more than happy to try it out. In order to heal, you need to meet the several people you are connected to by the red string of fate. And if this situation couldn't have gotten more ridiculous, one of them was your soulmate.You just don't know who.A/N: this is so cringey is2g "fantasy" is hard to write without sounding like your three.





	1. Chapter 1

Magic isn’t real. Going along with that line of reasoning, I guess you weren’t either. 

Well, that isn’t exactly an accurate way to necessarily put that. Nonetheless, to say your condition or ‘ability’ was magic wouldn’t be out of the question; it wasn’t normal in any way. Supernatural might be a better way to word it. It wasn’t a gift to any degree, despite a brief onlooker’s thoughts. Lord knows you would help it if you could. It hindered so much in your life, down to the very essence of just even being able to live it.

Just three weeks after you were born, you appeared missing one morning. After a hectic panic that your parents went into for 24 hours, you had been returned where they had last left you. The authorities merely dismissed the case as to the fault of negligible parenting, ignoring your parents panicked and fretful insisting that something was wrong. The health professionals thought your parents were just as crazy. After hearing the same response wherever they went, they turned to the other insane people like them. Sorcerers, witches, fortune-tellers. A few “fakes”, as Rowan called them, found the story even crazier than their own mumbo-jumbo. It wasn’t until your parents found a real sorcerer that offered them an explanation. The “Santa Claus Condition” is what he referred to it as. A few people in the world were affected by it. 

He explained that it entailed at random intervals of time, you would transport to different places in the world during the deepest point of your sleep cycle. How often this happened varied from person to person. For some, it could have been every two years, while for others it could be every other day. As time passed, you all figured out it happened about every two to three weeks for you. It was a gamble every time it happened if you would end up somewhere safe. One time at the age of two, you came home with a scar on the back of your right shoulder with no explanation.

Rowan was the sorcerer you saw regularly to see how you were handling your condition. He was a 50-year-old man, with a goatee and a little hat he wore. He claimed it was professional wear for his occupation. He was a chill guy, he kept you up to date with possible treatments that may have arisen, though you both came to see how many have come and gone, being seemed as ineffective. Your relationship was more for you to have someone to vent to, as you couldn’t exactly talk to a lot of people about it.

If there was anything good to have come out of this complication in your life, it had to be how tough it made you. Your “power” didn’t keep you out of war zones, extreme climates, or dangerous terrain. You’ve seen your share of fucked up. Sometimes you got nice destinations, like a cruise ship or broadway. But even those didn’t really make up for the harsher experiences you faced in your life.

 

\---------------------------

 

One day, while at work, Rowan called you in for something “substantial” regarding the you-know-what. Excusing yourself a little early, you made your way to his tent in the slums of your city. His greeting was instant.

“Good evening, (y/n).”

“Hello, Rowan,” you said groggily. He noticed your tired voice and gained a modest amount of concern.

“What is it, have you made an unexpected trip to Brazil recently?” You chuckled and steadily shook your head.

“No, it’s just work,” you took a second to rub your eye carefully. “I’m due for a visit this week.”

“Interesting you say that,” he motioned for you to sit. You complied, leading him to transition to what he had called you there for in the first place. “Would you like some tea?” You politely shook your head to decline. He scooted his chair in securely before crossing his arms across the table as he began.

“A new study.” He remained serious. “It looks promising this time around.” He put out his palm. You looked at it, seeing a red string. “Tie it around your finger.” You pulled it from his palm in compliance, used to these “bizarre” requests.

“Do you know what the red string of fate is?”

“Uh, I know what it means in movies: it’s a string that connects two lovers by fate.”

“Somewhat,” he sighed out, taking a sip of his tea. “It is often romanticized as such, but the reality of it is that it is at its basic form a string tying people together by fate. We all have it. But they’re typically too weak to really bring people together, what with our world being so big. This specific string,” he gestured with his head towards the string he handed you. “Has a charm. It’s meant to strengthen the natural string so that it pulls you and other people tied to the natural string together.”

You were having a bit of trouble putting it on when Rowan paused to tell you to put it on your ring finger. While you kept struggling with it, Rowan sipped on his tea. You knew him long enough to know when you glanced at his face, he was in a balance of frustration and amusement at your inability to tie the string. He continued once he set his cup down.

“According to this study,” he seriously leaned in, elbows still supporting him on the table. “Your power can help you actually meet the people you are tied to by fate.”

You looked up at him suddenly, never hearing him sound so convinced by one of his proposals. The both of you had always carried a certain amount of cynicalness when it came to methods of getting rid of your bother. This aura he gave off of the genuine belief that this might work sent chills into you. A glimmer of hope maybe. But just a glimmer.

“How is meeting the people I am connected to supposed to stop me from transporting all over the place?” you looked back down at your work. Damn, tying thin ass string is hard.

“Details are few, but this is the way that the first person cured of your ability did it,” he sipped his tea again. This allowed for the moment it took for you to fully process his words. Your head snapped back up, nearly scaring the sorcerer half to death.

“It’s been cured?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly.

“Yes,” he reached up to massage his left ear slightly, ears likely ringing from your outburst. “I can’t guarantee this will work, as it has only been done once. But none of that we’ve tried so far has been a guarantee now, was it?”

“Of course not,” you smiled shyly, a little embarrassed by your excitement. You looked down at your successfully tied string, “So how is this supposed to happen?”

“Its a process,” he began. “You go into a state of constant transportation, meeting one person a day that you are tied to after another until you have sealed both ends of the string together. That's the trick,” he sighed. “It's not very certain on how you can satisfy the draw of the red string.”

“I don’t even know what that means, Row.”

“It means what I said. The string will always continue to pull you to the people you are tied to unless you can fulfill the purpose that you have with the other individual. You need to find out why you are connected and how you can satisfy that connection.”

“That still doesn’t tell me much,” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion.

“It doesn’t get much better than that,” he sighs, frowning slightly. Though you couldn’t tell if it was about your situation or the fact that he drank all his tea. “The subject in the study had to either encourage another person, to helping to teach a child to read. I would suppose you have to investigate what you need to do.”

“Difficult,” you yawned. “When should we start?”

“Because that string is on, securely I hope, tomorrow.” Oh damn, okay. “It should last up until you’ve met all the people you are tied with.”

“Like… all at once?”

“Yes, it should last an average for maybe six days or less. It depends on how many people you are tied to.”

“I hope its only one,” you admitted, mind wandering back to your many unfinished responsibilities at work. 

“Oh,” his tone became playful. Something that didn’t happen often. But when it did, it put you on edge. “By the way, your soulmate is definitely one of them.” You choked on your spit and began coughing.

When you recovered you only managed one word, “...what?”

“The man, or woman, you were meant to be with is connected to you by the red string of fate. You will definitely meet them, and possibly need to headstart a relationship in order to fulfill the string’s need.”

“Oh, god,” you felt stressed, taking your head in your palm. Excited, but a little stressed. Were you supposed to meet your soulmate this week? Soulmates actually existed?

“Here’s a new sim,” he slid a case across the table, which you clumsily caught. “More data and minutes for practically anywhere, since this time is gonna be awhile.” You glanced at it, uninterestingly, before putting it away in your bag. You got up from your seat, adjusting your bag to hang by your waist. Your actions were noticeably more urgent than normal, your adrenaline getting the best of you.

“Well, I… I should go. I have a lot of excuses to make this time around for my disappearance. If that's all, I’ll be going.”

“Don’t forget your credit cards,” he reminded you. Transporting random places typically meant changing currencies constantly. Thank god for ATMs. 

“Thank you,” you chuckled slightly, almost choking on the incense in the tent. Damn, he used a lot today. As you left, he yelled out at you encouragingly. 

“Don’t forget to send postcards!” You cracked a grin, a more authentic one of your laughs escaping your lips.

 

\---------------------

 

Getting ready for bed that night made you more anxious than normal. You never transported many places all at once before. You at least hoped the people you were tied to live in safe places. How many people were you tied to anyway? Did that mean they were also tied to each other? What was this going to even be like?

You fell back on your bed after what seemed like the fifteenth call made that evening. This time was to let your parents know about the situation so they could keep a straight story if work or someone else asked where you were. Making an alibi for what you were doing was always a trainwreck. This time would probably be even worse. But hey, hopefully, it would be your last trainwreck. You would not make a great serial killer, despite your experience. In making fake alibis, not actually killing people. No, you don’t kill people. No.

Your phone buzzed again, but you ignored it, hoping it was just some confirmation email from your landlord regarding paying your bills early. Instead, you breathed in and out slowly, careful as to not fall asleep yet. While it took a cycle or two for you to transport, the three hours of sleep you had last night were encouraging you to take some well-deserved rest. Leaning your head to the right, you saw the picture you placed of you and your parents in front of the Eiffel Tower. You rarely traveled voluntarily because of your condition, so that trip was the only time you went as a family on summer vacation. You didn’t change much from what you could tell, maybe your undereyes were brighter back then. It was probably your favorite picture.

Hey, maybe one of your soul bros (the nickname you gave to those the string tied you with) lived in Paris? Maybe your soulmate lived in Paris? A short flash of heat hit your face and your chest gave a stutter just thinking about meeting your soulmate. How would you know who among them was it? So many questions you were dying to know the answer to circled in your head. Most importantly, the excitement of getting rid of your weird curse made you smile in anticipation.

Looking at the time, you saw it was 10:30. While you could typically stay up past midnight, you thought the earlier you got to sleep, the more rested you would be. Changing into your go-to transporting clothes, you lay on the top of your bed; shoes and backpack on. It looked odd, but you would rather wake up like this wherever you went versus in pajamas.

You fell asleep quickly, despite the momentary restlessness you felt as you turned off the lights. It was just a matter of time before you would meet the first person you were supposedly tied to by fate for some odd reason, which you would need to find out.


	2. Day 1: Toronto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first day on your mission dropped you in the big Canadian city, Toronto. You meet one of the first 'soul-bros', Chan. While you stress over how exactly you're going to fulfill your purpose with him, you end up doing it so naturally you barely even noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP I posted the prologue like a year ago? and i just finished the first chapter? after a whole year? i'm the worst? hopefully i'll be more active once summer starts?  
> tbh it took so long because i've never been to toronto and i didn't know what to write really so I ended up researching the city for hours lmao why did i put myself through this.

As you began to regain your conscious steadily, you instantly felt an intense difference in the general comfort of your surroundings. The bed you had fell asleep on was replaced by incredibly hard surfaces. Your back was laying up right on a wall of some sort, pain generally coursing through your spine.  _ I should’ve seen a chiropractor before I started this shit, _ you thought as you winced at the pain when you began to process it. Arching your back, resulting in a cracking noise, your stretched out your arms and legs. Your left leg winced and started when it hit something, causing you to hurriedly open your eyes. 

A dumpster. Briefly taking a glance at your surroundings, you saw you were in a narrow alleyway. The buildings you were between were fairly tall, maybe 4 or 5 stories, and made of brick. Your best guess was that they were apartments. You next paid attention to the heat that had bothered you the instant you woke up. It was summer here still, so that wasn’t unusual. You reached for your pocket, turning on your phone. As you looked down, you started. After the brief panic, you observed closer what had spooked you. 

A thread from the one tied around your finger led across the alleyway, turning around the corner. Scrunching your eyebrows, you turned your hand around. It didn’t get tangled and when you reached with your other hand to touch it, your hand just went through it. It took a moment for you to think of what it might’ve been. One of the red strings of fate? You assumed that was it. Maybe it lead you to a soul bro? You nodded to yourself, slightly skeptical.  _ How else am I supposed to find them? _ You reasoned. A jingle came from your phone, making you turn your attention towards it. It booted, showing you the time from your original timezone before swiftly switching to what you presumed to be the current timezone. 8 A.M. That was about normal. Your ability usually meant you’d wake up at about that time no matter the timezone, maybe earlier or later depending on how severe the difference was. As you dismissed all the notifications (nothing important, at least for now), a sun graphic appeared on one side of your phone showing the number “78 F” and underneath the word “Toronto”.

Toronto, huh? It wasn’t too far from the Canadian-American border, if you remembered about the location. Near Lake Ontario? You slightly rose an eyebrow. Wasn’t Canada supposed to be cold? Maybe it just wasn’t this time of the year? Clearing your mind of the minor questions you had, you looked back up to where the string was pulling you. You supposed the best way to start was to follow that string somewhere until you could maybe come up with some sort of game plan. Or a money exchange or ATM. Maybe you’d try to go penniless the whole day? The grumble in your stomach disqualified that thought as quickly as it came. Maybe you’d look for breakfast first.

Getting up and dusting yourself off, you began to follow the string.  _ I wonder how far away they are? _ You wondered as you turned the corner. Your attention drifted from the string and to your surroundings. The surroundings were quite urban, a block away in the direction the string was leading you were office-like buildings  _ much  _ taller than the other buildings. More life appeared on this street than the one you had woken up on. The corner that the string directed you to turn at was what appeared to be a restaurant, advertised by a large sign. It would likely be lit up, blinking, and flashing if it were dark. The rest of the block had a few stores, some more plain looking residential places. It was a pleasant city, similar to other cities you had been to when transporting place to place.

Your stomach twisted inside of you yet again, enough to make you wince a bit and look down at it with a glare. “Be quiet,” you scolded it. It growled back at you, as if refusing to be silenced. Sighing at its persistence, you looked back up at the restaurant. As far as you knew, you only had one day in Toronto to meet the person you were tied to. But you still had to eat, right?

That being said, you figured to stop in. Just before, you slipped off your jacket, tying it around your waist. One essential thing about transporting was wearing layers. You never know when you’ll need it. 

Walking into the restaurant, you were surprised to see a fairly large amount of people. There were just as many enough that you even thought that they were full.  _ Maybe I should just find another place, _ you thought. Arriving at that decision, you were just about to turn around and leave when a waiter had come up with a smile.

“Hello, just one?” Well it was too late now. Sure, you could simply explain that you had changed your mind and wanted to leave, but that would be awkward for your uncharismatic self to explain. ‘Hi, no, too many people here, I have anxiety haha.’ So you just caved in.

“Yes,” your voice cracked a little.  _ Jesus Christ, _ you winced inwardly at yourself. This was going to be a long day. 

“Is the bar alright?” Did people even have breakfast at the bar section? You were positive they didn’t, but looking quickly back at the crowded area, you guessed it was because of the capacity.  _ Who even goes out to eat this early in the morning? _ you kept reminiscing, ever so slightly agitated.

“Yes,” you nodded, a bit quieter than the last time. Despite what you believed to be an awkward interaction, the waiter didn’t seem to care, grabbing a napkin wrapped snugly around some silverware and briefly telling you to follow them. You did so, rubbing your arms, surprised at how cold it was in the restaurant compared to the outside. The waiter sat you at the bar, handing you a menu and leaving you. 

Legs hanging above the ground, you leaned your elbows on the bar counter, looking briefly at the menu. Becoming disinterested fairly quickly, you took a moment to look around. To your left was a woman, body completely turned away from you conversing with her partner. On your right was an empty seat and what you were somewhat convinced was the last one available in the whole restaurant. In front of you, obviously, was the bar, with various taps of beers, other liqueurs, and whiskies stacked on the shelves on the wall. In addition, there was a TV playing some sort of morning show program. Although you took awhile to watch it and the delayed subtitles, you couldn’t recognize it or anyone hosting it. 

The menu was a typical breakfast diner’s menu. Omelettes, pancakes, toast, the usual. You became uninterested in it fairly quickly when your phone started to buzz with the sound of your face call ringtone. You should’ve guessed he would try to contact you. Looking around quickly to make sure no one would try to take your order or judge you for face chatting in public (?), you pulled your phone out of your pocket and answered it.

“Good morning,” you answered when Rowans far too close to the camera face loaded, only illuminated by the screen on the phone. It didn’t necessarily mean it was dark in your timezone, but he refused to use any other sort of light in his dark tent besides candles or lanterns. Electrical lighting “tampered with his work”, or at least that's what he insisted.

“So where are you?” he asked, becoming minimally aware of his ridiculous angle on the camera and tried to fix it a little. It didn’t do much anyways.

“Toronto,” you gave a bit of a forced smile. “But the heat makes me doubt that.”

“Ontario? Oh it's hot this time of year,” he said. “Remember my son, Jacob?”

“Yes, the author,” you did your best to quickly let him know you remembered him, lest he go on to tell you his life story from the moment he was born  _ again _ . “He lives around here, right?”

“Yes, I’ve been up there a few times to see him,” he laughed a little. The glimpse of the man’s softer side helped you crack a smile. It was short as he went straight back to business. “Did you find them?”

“No,” you admitted, looking at the string. It was leading you out the entrance of the restaurant. “I needed breakfast first. I just got up.”

“You do realise you only have a day to complete your purpose?” Anxiety flooded through you, mostly in your arms that held the phone.

“Yes,” you sighed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s up to you if this ends up working or not,” he sipped some of his tea. Though you couldn’t see it, you heard it. Rowan made a subconscious effort to make a sound when he drank.

“I know,” you groaned. “I just don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this.” A short silence came after you, as Rowan set down his tea with a clink.

“I’ll tell you what,” he shifted himself in his seat and the camera. “This isn’t  just some stranger whose life you're trying to fix.”  _ Except that’s exactly what this is, _ you rebutted in your head. “This is a soul you’ve been connected to since before either of you were born. The two of you have a connection. Every person you meet this next week or two is connected with you in some way. Fate predetermined that these people could have their lives changed forever by you or that your life would be changed forever by them. Fate is going to be doing all the work for you.” He was probably right. But considering how odd and confusing the situation was for you, you didn’t know if that helped much at all.

“Well,” you paused. “I should probably get the breakfast in me and get out there as soon as possible. Time waits for no one.”

“I wish you all the best of luck,” he told you in his naturally grandiose way. You told him a soft “bye” before you hung up, just at miraculously the same time that a waiter came to take your order from behind the bar.

“Hello, welcome to-” the waiter had begun telling you a customary greeting as you put your phone back in your pocket. He paused suddenly just as he had started, making you quickly look up at him to see what he was doing. He was looking over you, a smile quickly spread on his features as he spoke somewhat louder to somebody behind you.

“Well, I’ll be, it’s Dinosaurus Rex. I thought you were supposed to be gone for the summer like everyone else!” You supposed he saw a friend and you awkwardly looked away from him and back at your menu, like you were trying to memorize all of the pancake toppings. As much as you tried to not be any part of the conversation, you couldn’t help to at least overhear.

“Please stop calling me that, that’s not even a real dinosaur,” the voice that responded was somewhat quiet with a hint of annoyance. “And I thought I mentioned that I was staying for the summer.”

“I get ya, gotta work those loans off,” the waiter seemed to shiver. In that brief moment, after you became less interested in your perusing, your attention was caught by the string. It had definitely moved in the time that you had sat down to this moment. The fact that it was moving gave you an eerie, nervous feeling. Maybe you should’ve just skipped breakfast and went after them? 

Your mangled feelings had then left just as urgently as they came, and your eyes shot back down at the string. As you held your breathe, the string rotated to your right, at a steady pace that seemed to match the sound of the footsteps as they passed behind you. You heard an airy sigh as in the corner of your eye, a silhouette appeared to hop on the bar stool next to you. After a moment of utter disbelief, you carefully tilted your sight from your ring finger to the person now next to you. Following the bright red string that only you could see, its path ended at his crossed arms. You caught sight of the end on the ring finger of his right hand, tucked beneath his left elbow. 

The revelation paralyzed you and your gaze, unable to look away. Your mind realized that if you continued to gawk at him, you would raise suspicions and give off the worst first impression ever. But your body seemed to refuse to listen, as you took in everything about the first “soulbro” you had ever met. 

The bottom layer of his dark brown hair was short. His top layer curled towards his face with a wave to it. He wore a somewhat oversized black graphic tee. His face was young and his eyes were sharp, but they had a small, kind droop to them that you could miss easily at a mere glance. As he continued his conversation that you had muted out, his smile shone not only on his lips but in his eyes. 

The amount of time that past with you looking at the boy become well over uncomfortable when you attempted to get your wits together just in time for you to look back at the waiter, looking back at you. Panicking, you supposed he had come back to you for your order.

“Oh, uh, eggs, sunnyside up, and bacon. And an orange juice.” You looked away quickly, but back at the waiter again briefly when you swear he was giving you a look drowning in suspicion. With a modest amount of shame, you looked down again, menu extended and lips pursed. You were too embarrassed to look up again as he took the menu, saying the typical “i’ll be right back with your drink blablabla”. 

“I’ll have the usual,” your soul bro told him casually after you placed your order.

The waiter left, leaving you completely stiff and nervous, the prescence of the person next to you making you incredibly uneasy. In attempt to calm yourself, you exhaled.  _ Okay. Calm down. Like Rowan said, everything is going to be fine. There’s a reason this guy’s connected to me. I can do it. Just make small talk, get to know him. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? _ As your nerves returned to a healthy level, you shyly looked at him again. It appeared he still wasn’t paying much attention to you, currently you were just a person he happened to be sitting next to in a crowded restaurant. You thought of what to do, trying to think of anything casual to discuss. What did Canadians talk about?

Without any critical thinking from you whatsoever, you turned your torso towards him as you asked him:

“Hey, did you see the hockey game last night? Pretty intense, right?”

 

**_IMBECILE. COMPLETE MORON. YOU FUCKING SOUP CAN._ ** your brain called you names as you realized how stupid you just sounded. You had successfully concocted the lie that you watched hockey while simultaneously just assuming the now bewildered looking boy watched hockey because, oh, we’re in  **Canada** . 

He did a double-take, completely taken aback. He hadn’t realized at first that you were talking to him. Or he did, but he just took a moment to actually process the weird and confusing moment. “Uh, What?” was all he could respond with. Understandably. Petrification hit you yet again, causing your gaze to fumble around and words and thoughts jumble into a complete mess as stutters were all your mouth could formulate.

A laugh sounded from him afterwards, stopping the mess you were experiencing as you looked at him again. It wasn’t like a small “ha” or “hahaha?” laugh, he was cracking up. Maybe you should’ve felt bad like “oh, he’s laughing at me im such an idiot”, but it somehow didn’t feel like he was shaming or embarrassing you at all. As he gradually recovered to form sentences, he wiped his eyes and looked at you with a quirked brow.

“Your visiting, right?”

“Uhm, ah, yes,” you almost mumbled. 

“Well, first, welcome to Canada, and second, hockey season doesn’t start until the fall,” he informed you gently. You gave a small “oh” sound, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

“Where are you from?” he asked curiously, still smiling kindly. You told him where, which he hummed to in understanding. A very brief silence loomed over, causing the panic to set back in your body. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh, maybe a couple,” you paused, almost quickly about to say that for all you knew, you had only been there for at the most an hour. “Late last night, I haven’t gotten the chance to do anything here yet.”

Well if you couldn’t get any more suspicious than asking someone seemingly Canadian if they had seen the nonexistent hockey game the other night, you had just changed your answer for how long you had been in the country mid-sentence. If this guy was an immigration officer, you’d be fucked. 

He at least pretended that he didn’t seem to mind and nodded. You tried to ease into a conversation again by looking over your shoulder at the crowded seating. 

“Is it always this busy at 8 in the morning?”

“No,” somebody else answered. You looked back across the bar to see the waiter, setting down your iced orange juice, with an orange wedge squeezed onto the rim of the glass and a little hot pink umbrella. He then put glass of an iced dark drink which you presumed to be coffee, black, towards your “friend”. “We got a U.S. tour group stop by for breakfast this morning. Could’ve warned us about it, but they just came out of nowhere.”

“I was about to ask, its way too crowded for this time in the day,” the soulbro nodded. He looked back at you and quickly arched his brows and “oh”ed before uncomfortably putting his arms in front of him in a shy/defensive gesture.

“Excuse me, my name is Chan Lee. I forgot to introduce myself.” You swiftly told him it was okay and introduced yourself next.

“And I’m Jack. Just call that guy Dino.”

“That’s not my name,” you watched Chan roll his eyes. 

“Sure it is! You look like a dinosaur, so why not?”

“I don’t look like a dinosaur, Jack.”

“You’re not gonna admit that if you squint  _ really really  _ hard, you kind of look like one?”

“Jack, Table 10’s order is ready!”

“Shouldn’t you be going now?”

As he hurriedly left, he yelled back, “THIS ISN’T OVER!”

The interaction made you laugh, turning Chan’s attention back towards you. You both took sips of your drinks as the conversation steadily became more casual.

“So… Dino?” you started back up. He groaned.

“Just a name my friends call me. It’s not my favorite.”

“Well…” you squinted at him a bit. You saw it. 

“Yeah, just forget it,” he waved it off, with a skeptical face. Your grin widened and a laugh left you.

Taking a sip of your orange juice, you felt a shiver run through you. It was hot outside, but that seemed to instantly mean intense cooling inside as always. As you set your glass down, you looked back at Chan. “I thought Canada was supposed to be cold.”

“It is, in the winter. Summer gets pretty hot in Toronto though,” he explained between sips of his own drink. You nodded, Toronto wasn’t incredibly North. 

 

As the small talk continued, you were surprised by how easy it was to get to know him. It turned out Rowan was right after all. This wasn’t incredibly difficult. But even though it wasn’t hard to converse, you still couldn’t place exactly what you were supposed to be doing to help the guy out. You knew one of the people you were going to meet would be your soulmate, as much as that terrified you. But you couldn’t just assume everyone was going to be the “one” or whatever. You figured you had to dig deeper. But that was going to be tough, or at least you thought. How were you supposed to potentially change somebody’s life in one day?

“So, what do you do?” you asked. You were almost surprised by your own “boldness”. Well, bold for you.

“Hmm?” he seemed to momentarily leave and enter back in the discussion, setting down his coffee. “Oh, I’m a student in medicine at University of Toronto.” You nodded. 

“Medicine, eh? What do you want to be?”

He chuckled hesitantly, seeming somewhat fake. Oh? 

“Yeah, I don’t really know yet.” Oh. That’s when you thought:  _ Maybe he’s one of those students that don’t actually know/like what they’re studying? _ Medicine seemed like one of those fields where students would enter to satisfy some sort of familial standard. Not necessarily because they themselves wanted it. You hesitated as you stirred your juice with your straw. Should you ask?

“Your orders!” the waiter, Jack, slipped from behind the bar with both your orders. Even though you hadn’t come together. He slid your platter towards you and then Chan’s. Your glimpse at his food showed you a stack of pancakes doused in cream and strawberries. Nice. 

Naturally, the conversation was interrupted as you had now received your food, conversation becoming relatively minimal. Thankfully, after he finished his meal first with you close behind, the conversation stayed.

“Any plans for what your doing while your here?”

“Ahh,” you paused. Maybe this was your chance to spend the rest of the day with him? But how to do so without coming on too strong and scaring him away? ‘Lmao,  _ you’ _ ‘How bout YOU show me the town tonight, big boy ;)))’ ‘Greetings soulmate, allow me to follow you for the day and reveal your deepest, darkest emotions so I may heal you’ ‘I have come from afar to change your life’.

“... nothing?” before you realised it, you were taking way too long to think of an excuse and Chan had caught on to your speechlessness.

“...no, haha?” you smiled nervously. Your smile must have been contagious, as he then reflected it.

“Well, some people like to go down to the TU campus-”

“Are you here alone, though?” Jack had leaned against the bar from the other side, more liberated to socialize now that the tour group he complained about earlier had left. 

“Yeah, just me!” you nodded towards him.

“That’s no fun,” he groaned. He beamed up and leaned over the bar, towards you. “Want me to show ya around?!”

 

With all due respect to Jack, you had shit to do. Specifically with Chan. You tried keeping a straight face while you looked away, pretending to consider the premise. Before you could gently turn down the offer, you looked over at Chan as he spoke up. 

“I thought you said you were busy today?” he seemed annoyed.

“When did I say that?”

“When I asked if you wanted to hang out today last night,” Jack had a face that seemed like he was searching his brain for answers when he “oohhhh”ed.

“I forgot,” he seemed distraught and mildly upset. “I’m covering Wendy’s shift today while she’s at her friend’s wedding…”

You gave a small laugh, “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he groaned. “Sightseeing by yourself is, like, boring as fuck.” 

“Some people, believe it or not, like having that kind of time to themselves,” Chan defended.

“Blah, blah, that’s bullshit,” Jack argued back, almost like a toddler. He then gasped and yelled, “YOU CAN SHOW HER AROUND!”

“JACK,” he simply stated. 

“C’mon! Don’t you want a real local to show you around?” the question was directed at you. Chan also hesitantly looked at you, awaiting a response. 

“Uhhh, I mean,” you hesitated. “It sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to impose on anyone-”

“Meh, Chan had nothing to do today, anyways,” he shrugged. “It’s not a problem, right?” He directed his question towards Chan.

You shyly looked at him, when he met your gaze he quickly looked away, flustered and struggling to find his words. “Uhm, well no-”

“PERFECT!” he hopped over the bar counter (who the fuck was this dude) and pulled you both up from your seats by your arms. “Chan’s been needing a date.”

“A d-date?”

“Now, GO HAVE FUN,” he dragged you out towards the entrance and pushed you both out the restaurant. 

Did you just get kicked out?

Now it was just the two of you, awkwardly standing on the sidewalk at the entrance to the restaurant, standing by the side to not impede pedestrian traffic. A brief silence filled with awkwardness, confusion, and tension swept over as you looked at him in confusion.

“We didn’t even pay?”

“Y-yeah,” he scratched his head, looking back inside. “Well, it’s coming out of his check.”

“Ah…” you awkwardly pulled at the bottom of your shirt. 

“Yeah, so…” he rubbed his hands together. “I’m so sorry, about all of this. Jack is… unusual. He means well, though. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your stay here, so you totally don’t have to do what he says, I can give you a few places to go, tips, recommendations for food, photo ops-”

You breathed deeply as you watched him talk. His looks were nothing to sneeze at, and him rambling on made you tune out as it only drew you more towards his face. He made eye contact, making you flinch, unnoticeably perhaps as he just looked away and kept talking. As much as you tried to not think about what Rowan said about the soulmate, you couldn’t help but at least wonder. Well, it was more like daydreaming. 

Before you could finish admiring him and tune back into what he was telling you, you found his mouth stop moving and his face look towards you, waiting for interaction on your part.

“Oh, uhm, ah,” you not so charismatically brainstormed to find the words you were looking for. “Actually, I was… uhm…” You folded your arms across in front of you in an instinctively defensive manner. “I would appreciate being shown Toronto by a local, kind of like what Jack said. That is, if you actually wanted to, I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do, after all-”

“Okay, I can do that.” You stopped dead in your sentence when he said that, trying to suppress the light fluttery feeling of happiness that welled up inside of you. You smiled wide, only slightly embarrassed by your probably red cheeks. 

“Really? Oh, thank you so much-”

“Don’t mention it,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Besides, I think we get along pretty well, anyways.”

  
  


\--------------------------------------------------

 

To start, he took you down to University of Toronto’s campus where you could see a few people, young and old, laid out on blankets. Some were having picnics, some were just enjoying the day, all in the shade. The temperature had gotten higher from when you first woke up, to a point that you couldn’t ignore it. 

Nervously, Chan asked if you would like your picture taken there, which you said yes to. You posed cutely along a tree for a short few minutes, before the heat began to set and he proposed going to cool down in the visitor’s centre. As you did so, you thought to bring up the topic of what he was majoring in.

“Medicine, huh?”

“Hmm?” he set down his can of coke that he got from the vending machine. “Oh, yeah.”

“Do you… like it?” he didn’t make any eye contact as he just sat staring at the can, tracing the rim with his finger. 

“Can’t say,” he said. “It’s not the worst thing, I don’t hate it. I think the idea is cool, and the stuff I’m learning isn’t all that bad, but…” he took a deep breath. “I have no idea of telling if this is what I was meant to do.”

Silence overtook the both of you for awhile. You definitely understood. You didn’t know what you were going to graduate with a degree in when you first went to college, either. That part of your life was so hard, you remembered. Leaving home, living by yourself, starting your journey to the rest of your life. It was terrifying. It was lonely. No matter the amount of support you got, you still didn’t have what you thought you needed. Someone, something, anything to tell you what to do. 

 

Afterwards, he decided to take you to the Toronto sign with the fountain. You took the trolleys, falling in love with the idea at first and soon realizing it was still public transport and wasn’t some Cinderella carriage. It was pretty busy to, the two of you were packed in, and while the AC was doing its best to keep up, it just wasn’t made to withstand the heat. It was up to about 96 degrees, you overheard some other people saying who were complaining about it. 

“It’s so freaking hot,” he groaned as he shook his shirt, trying to create some sort of flowing air. “You came on a pretty bad day. I mean, it’s not Canada day, but still.”

“Yeah, the heat is killing me,” you laughed, fanning yourself. “At least I got to meet you, though!” You stated a little too enthusiastically. You could’ve sworn the person you were standing over looked up at the two of you, as if watching some sort of drama or crime taking place. 

Nonetheless, Chan became shy again, scratching his hair a little as he smiled and awkwardly looked out a window. As he did, his eyes shot open as he then stated “crap” and grabbed your hand as he pulled you off the trolley at the stop that the trolley was just about to leave. Once you both were out of danger of being crushed by the doors, he instantly spurted out a bunch of apologies, which you needed to quelm. 

He calmed down, and after he let go of your hand in a silly, flustered way, you headed to the fountain. Along the way, you stopped and asked if you could get some ice cream, to which he happily obliged. Hopping into a sweets shop for a moment, you both got your respective favorite flavors in cones. You paid, after much arguing on both of you insisting you would cover it, Chan threw in the towel after witnessing your aggressive assertiveness to pay.

“I’ll just have to pay next time!” he ended with, handing you your cone after holding them while you fumbled with your bag, which still seemed suspiciously prepared for whatever you could need. You smiled a little, almost solemnly. You thought about staying in contact, but you remembered the reason you were there with him in the first place. To fulfill some sort of purpose you were meant to do with him, and go on to the next one. This day was technically supposed to be the only one where you would spend time with him at all. It’s not like you could come to Toronto, or wherever your “soul bros” were whenever you felt like it. You had a busy job that worked you as hard as it could within the legal (though you had your doubts at times) limits. 

 

You made it to the sign, and it was crowded. And hot again. The ice cream helped minimally, and you could hardly stand the heat. The photo op was ruined quite a few times by kids who were climbing around the sign, but you did manage to get a nice picture with the second ‘T’. Someone offered to take a picture of the two of you, which Chan hesitantly complied to. You understood nearly instantly why, as the minute he stood by you, you realized how weird it was going to look. In a brave attempt to prevent the weird picture you came closer and wrapped an arm around him, posing with a peace sign. You didn’t catch his reaction, smiling at the person who was taking your picture with Chan’s phone. You heard the faint shutter click over the noise of a thousand demons (commonly known as children), as the stranger then put down the phone and came up to Chan and gave him his phone back. You said thank you, followed by a hurried one from Chan, who seemed flustered. You turned to look at him, seeing his face was flushed, maybe just due to the heat, but the rush of heat that you felt the second you came in contact made you think otherwise. 

“You guys make a nice couple!” the stranger complimented with a genuine smile before he left. Oh, boy. 

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as you tried to peak at the photo. You saw yourself smiling, fairly brightly, while leaning on a surprised Chan who was looking at you as opposed to the camera. The ‘T’ was practically illegible, as well. 

“I blame the photographic technique,” you playfully patted his shoulder. He chuckled, and then groaned. 

“I suck at posing for pictures,” he stated. “I think I have one good selfie I’ve ever taken. I had weird hair then, too.”

“Let’s take a better one, then!” you suggested.

“I’d rather be done with my complimentary sweat soak first.”

“Good point,” you giggled. “Any plans on what to do?”

“Hmm,” he seemed to think, though only for a brief second. “We could go to the aquarium. I’ve never been and I’d think it’s air conditioned.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

 

Oh, it was a plan. Maybe not one where you weighed the pros and cons of, but a plan. Everything was fine until you got there. It appeared as if everyone else in the city had the same plan as you did. The line for tickets was enormous, and the aquarium itself was packed. 

You stayed regardless, at least it was cool. You started by walking through some more isolated halls with fish tanks. All sorts of colorful fish from yellow, blue, and red swam aside you, back and forth. You’d point out a fish you thought looked nice every once in awhile, or one that was doing something funny. 

Chan tried to take some pictures of the fish, to which he voiced some disappointment of because the glass hindered it. As you went further in, more kids started showing up and running around, bumping into the two of  you. As minimally irritating as it was, at one point a little girl came running full speed and crashed into Chan. She fell down, and he had suddenly pushed into you a bit.

Before you could understand that was what happened yourself, Chan crouched down and asked if she was okay. You watched them as the girl got up and looked down at a scratch she got. 

“I think I hurt my knee,” the girl spoke shyly.

“Uh oh, do you want to get a band aid for it?” he asked gently. She nodded silently. You smiled at how he handled the situation with care. Several college students would be angry as all hell if a kid ran into them. You commended his patience.

“I think I have one with me,” you kneeled down to the girl and started searching your backpack. You pulled out one and took the packaging off, applying it as she let you.

“Thank you!” she beamed. She turned to run off again but paused, turning around and waving. You both waved back before getting back up on your feet.

“I see you, Doctor Lee. You’d nail the pediatrician vibe if you went that way,” you mildly teased him. He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I guess that would be cool.” You hesitated a moment before you began walking further into the aquarium.

“I don’t know if my career is what I’m meant to do, either.”

He looked at you quickly enough for you to feel a minitare draft hit your face. You continued.

“Working is hard, no matter what your doing. My mother always told me to never pick your favorite hobby as your career. Then that hobby becomes your job. And I think there is some truth to that…” you stopped at a dimly lit jellyfish tank and stared at the purple tentacles.

“But I also don’t see the problem with loving your job. Yes, it becomes a job, but doesn’t that just make you love it all the more?” You took a long pause, sneaking a glance at Chan. He was staring at the tank, as if thinking about your words.

“Even if your job isn’t your favorite, why can’t you learn to love it anyway? Someone’s gotta do it. Your role matters. Medicine is so important in that regards. You get to make people’s lives better, longer, and less painful. You can give them the chance to find the meaning that we are all searching for in our little lives. Maybe some people feel that sense of what they’re meant to do. And maybe some need more time to figure that out.”

Your monologue finished, leaving you two in the silence of the one place in the aquarium that wasn’t loud and bombarded with people. For awhile you both stood there, just staring at the slow movements the jellyfish made. Something about the moment made you feel that you had done what you came to do.

“... Thanks,” Chan broke the silence. You smiled and looked over at him. 

“It’s no problem.”

  
  


After the aquarium, you realized how late it was. The evening produced the wash of orange and yellow that was starting to light up all the street lamps. It only seemed to encourage younger people out to enjoy the night on the town. Traffic seemed worse and more people were out on the streets. 

“Hey, (y/n),” Chan initiated as you slowly walked down the street together. “Today was lots of fun. Seriously. I really enjoyed it.”

“Hey, I did too!” you replied.

“I just wanted to say thanks. I thought I was gonna stay in all day and do nothing but this was so much better than that. Like, I don’t wanna be cheesy or anything, I feel like we were almost meant to meet in that stupid diner.” You chuckled to yourself. If only he knew.

“I get it, I felt the same way.”

You kept walking together like that until you came to a park and decided to sit. The two of you kept talking and talking until somehow, in your exhaustion, you managed to fall dead asleep on his shoulder. 

Though you didn’t notice, Chan surely did as his cheeks grew red and his lips curled into a smile, looking back up at the painted sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I'm like incredibly new to writing fics for Seventeen, I've only previously written for BTS. I'm going to try my best based on what I know and from what I find from other fans on the internet when it comes to their personalities, so I might be inaccurate in some places.   
> This is just a quick prologue to try to give you some information on the reader's story and what is going to happen in the story.  
> Hope you stick around for the actual story <3!


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